


It Was Just A Dream, Clarke.

by hearthedas



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Character Death In Dream, F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearthedas/pseuds/hearthedas
Summary: Bellamy stood up, quickly moving towards her, grabbing the coffee cup out of her hands. “You’re never going to go back to sleep if you finish that.” She frowned, but didn’t complain, nor made an attempt to grab the cup back. Blue hues watching as he sat it aside. “Look, I’m sorry you’ve had that dream again - that you keep having it. But I promise you, Clarke, nothing like that is ever going to happen. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not, for the rest of our lives. Till death do us part.”
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	It Was Just A Dream, Clarke.

**Author's Note:**

> Ironically, this idea came to me in a dream last night, so I had to write it. 
> 
> As a side note, I haven't written fanfiction in ages. So please excuse the rust. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

_ “Clarke, don’t do this. There has to be another way.” He mumbled, hands raised in front of him in surrender, chocolate hues pleading, wishing that things hadn’t gone this way. He screwed up, he knew that now. But the betrayal. The hurt look in her eyes, he just knew.  _

_ Tears streamed down her face, gun in her hand pointed directly at his heart, finger on the trigger ready to fire.  _

_ “I’m so sorry, Bellamy, I-” She began, her voice cracked unwillingly. Clarke closed her eyes, willing the tears away but they continued to fall. “I have to.” She managed, her voice barely above a whisper.  _

_ “Clarke--” _

_ Bang!  _

_ She didn’t know when she pulled the trigger or even if she pulled the trigger. She just heard silence. Bellamy’s fallen body, blood pooling the wound around his chest, his eyes still open, staring at her with fright.  _

_ Clarke fell to her knees and sobbed. _

She bolted up with a jolt, body shook, covered in sweat. The dream, nightmare...Whatever it was, it felt so real, so raw. It was like she was there with dream  _ her _ , killing the love of her life. 

But that couldn’t be.

He was right there, next to her, sleeping soundlessly. His soft snores filled the quiet room. The rise and fall of his chest, indicating that he was still alive. Still with her. 

Not like dream Bellamy. He was gone. But  _ her  _ Bellamy laid next to her, blissfully unaware of the night that the blonde had. 

She looked over at the clock,  _ two am. _

Her mind was still reeling with thoughts of the dream, knowing full well she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep but she had to try. 

She laid back down, snuggling closer to him. Eyes closed, attempting to go back to sleep. The dream flashed before again, the sound of a bullet whizzing through the air, the grunt of the target as he fell to the ground.

The cries of anguish from Clarke as she realized she’d killed her best friend. The person she loved the most. 

Her eyes snapped open. Fresh tears stained her vision. She wiped them with the back of her hand before moving to get out of bed, knowing that sleep wasn’t going to come. 

She tried to stay quiet, not waking the sleeping body next to her. A grunt (or it could have been a groan) escaped his lips, causing Clarke to look at him. He was still asleep, just shifting his body, so he was now in a new position. 

Clarke smiled at the sight of him, as she climbed out of bed and tip-toed downstairs. A yawn escaped her lips but that didn’t stop her from making her way down to the kitchen. Her body and mind seemingly knew what to do and before she knew it, she was sitting down at the table, coffee in hands, drinking it slowly. 

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s scruffed voice spoke from the top of the stairs. His feet shuffling, the floor creaking with every step as he made his way downstairs. “You made coffee at two in the morning?” He asked, even though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. 

This wasn’t the first time she woke up in the middle of the night, needing the caffeine. Nor was this the first time he’d woke up to see what was wrong.

She shrugged, before taking another sip of the cooling beverage, eyeing him as he made his own cup and sat across from her.

“Same dream?” She nodded. 

They’ve had this song and dance before. This isn’t the first time she’s had this dream. But she still refuses to tell him about it. “Okay, tell me about it.”

“I can’t, Bellamy.” She tried to hide the tears that were threatening to fall again. 

“You can tell me anything, Clarke.”

“I know.” 

“Then tell me.”

“I-” She hesitated. “Shot you.”

He was quiet for a beat of a second. Two seconds. Three seconds. 

“That’s it?” He asked, his tone was serious. 

“Bellamy!” Clarke chided.

“You know it was only a dream, right Clarke?” 

“It felt real though. Like  _ I _ was actually there.”  _ Doing the shooting _ . But she didn’t say that outloud.

She realizes she must have sounded crazy and maybe she was. But that didn’t stop the feeling like maybe this had happened before. Maybe in a different life, a different world. In a universe where she’s not the love of his life and he’s not hers and they  _ hurt _ each other instead. It felt too real to feel like a dream - the blood, the place they were in, the words they’ve said...The way the life slowly drained out of his eyes. The way her heart broke and shattered into a million tiny little pieces. It all felt real. And all she could do was watch in horror. 

Unable to stop it.

Bellamy stood up, quickly moving towards her, grabbing the coffee cup out of her hands. “You’re  _ never _ going to go back to sleep if you finish that.” She frowned, but didn’t complain, nor made an attempt to grab the cup back. Blue hues watching as he sat it aside. “Look, I’m sorry you’ve had that dream again - that you keep having it. But I promise you, Clarke, nothing like that is  _ ever _ going to happen. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not, for the rest of our lives. Till death do us part.” 

He pulled her up from the chair, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close, holding on tightly, refusing to let her go. 

“Now, let’s go back to bed.” He let go, his hand finding hers, intertwining their fingers together as he led her back up the stairs, and into the bed they shared. 


End file.
